


A Day in Paradise

by athena_crikey



Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: Beach Volleyball, Fun, Gen, Gon's lost nen, Hisoka's an asshole, What's new, no real resolution, sticky drinks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-19
Updated: 2020-05-19
Packaged: 2021-03-03 00:20:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,603
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24275755
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/athena_crikey/pseuds/athena_crikey
Summary: “You do not invite asociopathic mass-murdererto your volleyball game because you need a fourth,” hisses Killua.“I don’t think he’s committedmassmurder,” replies Gon skeptically.
Relationships: Alluka Zoldyck & Killua Zoldyck, Gon Freecs & Hisoka, Gon Freecs & Killua Zoldyck, Gon Freecs/Hisoka
Comments: 9
Kudos: 279





	A Day in Paradise

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Русский available: [День в раю](https://archiveofourown.org/works/29136555) by [GanbareGanbare](https://archiveofourown.org/users/GanbareGanbare/pseuds/GanbareGanbare)



> I really just wanted to write a fic where Hisoka's on a beach drinking ridiculous cocktails.

Costa Del Sol is beautiful. White sandy beaches, warm inviting water. There are deck chairs to lounge on, and large colourful umbrellas to deflect the bright sun overhead, and plenty of games to play. In the ocean swim a myriad of exotic fish, rainbow-hued and strangely shaped. 

Gon’s on vacation. He’s never been on vacation before, but he’s been working tirelessly to get his nen back for almost a year (to frustratingly little effect), performing labour after labour until he started losing weight and forgetting important things like how to smile. At that point, Killua insisted on a vacation. 

So here they are enjoying the surf and sand, Killua and Alluka lathered in oily sun screen and Gon dressed in baggy green bathing trunks. They swim with owl-dolphins, and fish for bright orange ostrich-fish, and play beach volleyball until their hair is full of sand. 

It’s fun, and for the first time in a long time Gon realises that recently he’s forgotten how to have fun. Forgotten what it’s like to sit back and let the world wash by him. But it’s also just a little artificial. Killua brought them to a resort that his family owns, its clientele rich and paranoid. Food is laid out for them at all times, their rooms always scrupulously clean and inviting, the resort itself spotless and so effortlessly beautiful Gon can’t imagine the amount of work that’s gone into it. He’s never been pampered before, never been offered foot rubs and massages and facial treatments. Never been waited on. 

Killua and Alluka don’t seem to notice anything strange about it, and after all they have an entire host of butlers at home to care for their every whim. Killua even lets the hotel staff cut his hair – when before now, that’s been a task he’s only permitted Gon to carry out. 

So when Killua and Alluka are playing in the indoor pool, full of inflatable animals and water slides, Gon steps out onto the beach to ponder his discomfort here. 

“It _is_ a quandary, isn’t it?” purrs a low, seductive, _familiar_ voice. Gon turns. 

Hisoka is lying stretched out on a cloth beach chair beneath a blue and pink umbrella. He’s wearing a very tight pair of pink booty shorts, and nothing else. Gon stares; he smiles. 

“Hi-Hisoka! What are you doing here?” Gon points to him, then at the beach, utterly stymied. 

“Mmm, relaxing. Isn’t that what one does on a beach?” He has a tall glass filled with a rainbow of different liquors, topped with a straw and a little paper umbrella. He takes a sip from it. 

“Really?” says Gon, heartrate slowing. He walks closer and takes a seat on the chair next to Hisoka, burying his feet in the sand. Beneath the scalding top layer the sand is cool and damp. 

“Certainly. Even people like me need a break. Or don’t you agree?” His eyes are curved, full of humour. 

“Before coming here, I didn’t think anyone really needed a break like this. But… it _is_ nice to relax on the beach.”

Hisoka’s lips curl upwards. “Indeed.”

“Hisoka? What did you mean? About it being a quandary?”

“You looked puzzled. By this place. Being in the lap of luxury is unusual for you, isn’t it?”

Gon nods. “It’s nice here. And I’m grateful Killua wanted to bring me. But… this place is kind of strange. It’s too good to be true, you know? Too pretty, too perfect.”

“You don’t have much experience with the very rich, do you Gon? Those with enough money often take to building false worlds for themselves. Worlds where base things like poverty and ugliness don’t exist. If they live in them long enough, they can even forget that their perfect paradises aren’t real.”

Under the hot tropical sun, Gon shivers. “But those things _are_ real. More real than this place. And they’re important.”

“That’s a perspective, certainly. Just not the one the guests of this resort take.” Hisoka sips at his drink. “Does that upset you?”

Gon considers, tilting his head to the side. “I guess… I don’t think there’s anything wrong with having fun – and this place _is_ fun. But if I forgot about all the bad things in the outside world, that would be unfair to the people who suffer from them – and unfair to myself.” His fist clenches – his weak, nen-less fist. 

“Hmm.” Hisoka runs his finger down the dewy surface of his iced glass, leaving a line in the condensation. “It doesn’t sound like you’re in any danger of forgetting.”

“I guess not,” agrees Gon. The sun is starting to get uncomfortably hot on his shoulders and back, the dry heat like an open oven. “I think I’m going to go swimming now. Want to come?”

“Perhaps later,” replies the magician, hoisting his still-full drink. 

Gon nods. “Okay. See you, Hisoka.”

“Bye-bye, Gon.”

  
***

Later, over a dinner of pit-roasted hog, Gon tells Killua that he met Hisoka on the beach.

“What? _That_ pervert is here? How? _Why?_ ” Killua’s eyes are narrow, his greasy fingers clenched tight around the rib he’s holding. Beside him Alluka looks up curiously, her silver-blue eyes wide. 

Gon shrugs. “To have fun, I guess. He said even people like him need a holiday.”

“People like him need to shrivel up and die,” replies Killua bluntly. 

“He did help us out on Greed Island. And he understands things.”

Killua looks at him incredulously, tossing the gnawed bone into an empty bowl without looking. “‘Understands things?’ Like what?”

“Well, he knew about nen before us. And it was because of him that I grew so fast after the Hunter’s Exam.”

“That was because of _you_. You pushed yourself to learn nen.”

Gon tilts his head to the side. “We-ell. I mostly did it because I wanted to punch Hisoka in the face.”

“Perfectly reasonable,” says Killua. Beside him Alluka pulls his shirt and points at a large cut of meat on her plate; Killua picks up a knife and easily separates the meat from the bone, shredding it into neat slices for her. She beams. 

“But that’s what he wanted.”

“Yeah, because he’s a sick bastard. Look, people like Hisoka… they’re like the gristle on a piece of meat,” he says, pointing to a piece in the bone bowl. “Someone, somewhere has a use for them, but it’s a disgusting use that you probably don’t want to know about, and _definitely_ shouldn’t be getting involved with.”

“He’s helped us more often than not,” says Gon.

“Because _he’s a sick bastard_ ,” repeats Killua. “To him, we’re nothing but prey to be toyed with. If he helps us, it’s not out of the goodness of his heart. It’s because he’s expecting to reap a reward later. So don’t be fooled by his nice-guy act. He is not a nice guy, Gon.”

“I know. But…”

“No buts!” Killua forks a large crisp chunk of meat onto Gon’s plate. “Worry about eating that. Not about that clown freak. Okay?”

Gon can see the worry coming back into Killua’s eyes, see the deep-set concern that’s only started to fade since they arrived at Costa Del Sol. So he nods and picks up his knife. “Okay, Killua.”

  
***

Hisoka’s out on the beach the next day when they come out to play volleyball. Today he’s wearing an equally tight pair of neon blue shorts, tacky flip-flops sitting by the end of his chair. He’s drinking another colourful drink and reading a dog-eared Harlequin romance. He gives Gon a smile as he troops by with Killua and Alluka, the two of them smelling of coconut thanks to the generous layer of sun screen they applied moments before.

“We should ask him to come with us,” Gon says to Killua. The former-assassin gives him a dumb-founded look.

“Did you take in _none_ of what we talked about yesterday?”

“No, I did. But he’s alone and we really need four people for a game.”

“You do not invite a _sociopathic mass-murderer_ to your volleyball game because you need a fourth,” hisses Killua.

“I don’t think he’s committed _mass_ murder,” replies Gon skeptically. And then, before Killua can stop him: “Hey, Hisoka?”

The magician looks up from his page. “Hmm?”

“We’re going to play beach volleyball. Wanna come?”

Hisoka’s eyes sweep over them, considering. After a moment he produces a bookmark from thin air and slots it into his book. “Sure,” he agrees. “Will you help me put on my suntan lotion, Gon?”

“Put it on yourself,” snipes back Killua. 

Hisoka makes a face but does, slowly lathering the slick lotion over his muscles, making his pale skin even paler. He watches Gon the whole time with a seductive smile on his lips; Gon stares back unaffected. When he’s done he picks up his drink and rising. He steps into his flop-flops and walks down to them. “Killua darling, I don’t believe I’ve met your delightful sister,” he says.

Killua steps in front of Alluka. “ _And you won’t_ ,” he replies, snarling. Then he takes Alluka’s hand and leads her towards the volleyball net.

Gon looks up at Hisoka. “Guess you’re my partner,” he says, smiling.

  
***

Hisoka is good at volleyball, like he’s good at everything Gon’s see him try. He knows the rules thanks to their preparation for fighting Razor’s pirates on Greed Island – where Gon had been assigned to beach volleyball – and has no hesitation about throwing himself after balls.

After a few amazing saves Killua gets suspicious and starts using _Gyo_ , which reveals that Hisoka is in fact using Bungee Gum to pull the ball into range. 

“Nen is cheating,” shouts Killua. Hisoka looks back at him, unaffected.

“Why? Each team has one nen user. It seems eminently fair to me.”

His words hit Gon like a kick in the gut. It’s not strange that Hisoka knows about his lost nen – in fact, it’s probably a good thing. Makes him less of a target of the magician’s fanatic interest. But to have it said aloud like that still hurts. 

He’d thought he was over it. Thought that after almost a year of searching to regain it, he would be past feeling its loss. But the pain is still keen in his heart, still sharp as glass shards. Cuts him to the quick. 

The argument about using nen or not goes on until Killua concedes and vengefully starts using God Speed, tearing up the sand and spiking the ball faster than the eye can follow. 

For Gon, the fun has gone out of the match. He feels cold even under the beating sun, feels empty. Alluka drifts onto the sidelines and starts looking for seashells; Gon turns to the ocean and watches the waves lap up onto the beach. Up and down, up and down, cleaning the spotless sand so that it shines in the sunlight. 

He wishes something could wash his unhappiness away and leave him just as sparkling clean.

  
***

It’s late. Killua and Alluka are in bed, the AC cranked and the window closed to keep out the night bugs.

Gon can’t sleep. He’s been plastering on a smile since this afternoon, but the truth he’s realised is that even here in this beautiful place he’s still empty. Still broken. And now that he knows it, he can’t forget it. 

He walks outside on the paths that crisscross the resort, watching dragonflies drift lazily by under the full moon beside the large swimming pool. 

Hisoka’s lounging beside it, a martini in his hand. He’s wearing a loose button-up t-shirt and khaki shorts, and has a book propped up against his knee. Gon doesn’t mind running into him; Hisoka doesn’t sugar-coat the truth, and right now he’s not in the mood for optimism. He walks over to the magician and sits down on the chair beside him. 

“Would you like a drink?” offers Hisoka.

Gon looks up. “Aunt Mito made me promise not to drink alcohol until I’m eighteen,” he replies.

“My, how upstanding. Even with an adult’s permission?”

“Somehow I don’t think you have my best interests in mind, Hisoka.”

The magician frowns in disappointment. “How cruel. It would make you feel better.”

Gon’s eyes flash. “What do you know about that?”

“Hmm?” He closes the book. “You’re mourning the loss of your nen; it’s entirely obvious.”

 _Mourning_. Gon tastes the word; a flavour like dandelion milk, thick and sour. He’s never thought of it like that before. He’s been working so hard to get his nen back, focusing so much on the fact that he _will_ do it that he hasn’t realized that a part of him has given up. Is grieving. 

“I –” for once, he doesn’t know what to say. Hisoka’s watching him patiently, golden eyes gleaming in the moonlight. “I’ll get it back,” he says, softly. There is no confidence in his tone.

“Oh Gon. What is gone is gone. That’s what makes this life so exhilarating. Only one chance.” He makes a card appear, flips it between his fingers with a flash of white and red, and then makes it disappear. “Otherwise, what would sacrifice mean?”

Gon flushes. He’s wondered this himself. Wondered how he could regain his nen, if he willingly gave it up to take revenge for Kite. Wonders if he’s not demeaning Kite’s death by trying to renege on his contract. But Kite came back to life. So can’t he get his nen back too? He shakes his head, trying to clear away all the thoughts that have been haunting him after dark when Killua’s not there to distract him. 

“I believe in second chances,” he says. And he does. Killua, Alluka, Colt; he’s forgiven them all their past crimes. Even Hisoka he would forgive, if the magician asked him to. But Gon knows he won’t ask. 

Hisoka takes a drink from his martini, his eyes watching Gon the whole time. His lips are moist, glistening when he finishes; his tongue sweeps out and licks across them. “Not everyone is worthy of redemption,” he purrs.

“I am,” says Gon, firmly. 

Hisoka smiles and beckons Gon in with a curl of his fingers; Gon steps forward. He pulls the olive from his glass, fingers holding the little toothpick delicately, and extends it to Gon. “Try,” he purrs. When Gon hesitates he adds: “Don’t worry, it doesn’t count as a drink.”

Gon leans in and bites it; it’s sour and gross, pickled in alcohol. He makes a face. “Yuck.”

“It is an acquired taste,” agrees Hisoka. “Like me. As for you, little Gon…” He leans back and crosses his legs. “Believe in second chances if it makes you happy. Believe you are worthy of them, if you can. Someday, when your perspective changes, I’ll be waiting.” His smile is like a scimitar in the moonlight, sharp and deadly.

Gon blinks. “You didn’t really come here for a vacation, did you Hisoka?”

The magician gives him a wicked look. “I came to enjoy myself. It is much the same,” he says. And Gon knows that he came to see him, to watch him, to learn how losing his nen has affected him. “But since you ask, I think I will be leaving soon. I’ve seen what I came to.” He drains his drink and stands. “Be careful on your hunt, Gon. You don’t know what truths you might discover.”

With a little wave of his hand he drifts off into the night, disappearing down a trail that leads to the beach. 

Gon sits a little longer, just him, the empty chair, and the drained martini glass. Then he gets up and goes back inside. 

END


End file.
